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Later she went back to the house and walked about admiring Laurent’s beautiful possessions. Many of the possessions, she noticed, were of jade—China’s most precious stone. Jade, like the idiotic little name her mother had insisted upon. Gleaming, luminous jade. Laurent Sevigny obviously experienced an appreciation of it, she thought, and felt a little shock of excitement at the idea. There was the jade phoenix, with its long, splendid tail feathers and crested head.

By late afternoon she began to grow restless. A double captive, one of Marlow Lewis and the other of Laurent Sevigny.

She was still wearing her denim pants and a shirt when Laurent arrived back, and one look at him told her that he had had to push his car out of mud and slush.

‘So ...’ she felt confused and at a loss with him, ‘you managed to get through?’

‘Yes, but it has taken most of the day to do it, as you can see. Still, I got her home and that is the main thing. The island is badly hit, I'm afraid.’

‘And her mother?’ Jade felt compelled to ask.

‘Fine. Hysterical, of course ... like her daughter. She didn’t know where Marcelle was.’ His strange green eyes went over her. ‘How have you been?’

‘Okay. I was beginning to worry, though.’

‘And now?’

‘Well ...’ she shrugged, ‘I’m glad you’re back, naturally. I didn’t fancy being here alone tonight. I mean, I don’t know what turn this calm weather might decide to take.’

‘It is unfortunate for you that there is no electricity and therefore no hot water. Are you “into” cold showers?’ Suddenly he smiled at her.

‘I—I don’t mind,’ she shrugged. ‘I’ve enjoyed them.’

‘Okay, then I leave you. I myself must shower and change. Later, we will walk down to the beach to see what is what, and then, when we get back, I’ll pour you a very good drink.’

‘Fine.’ She inclined her head slightly and made no mention of the fact that she had already been to the beach.

After she had showered and changed into her caftan she went through to the lounge to find him already there. ‘We’ll take our drinks to the beach,’ he said.

Jade watched him as he poured their drinks and, to make conversation, she said, ‘I’ve already been down to the beach, as a matter of fact.’

‘Oh?’ He turned to look at her. ‘How was it, getting down there?’

‘I managed,’ she shrugged her shoulders. ‘Your garden steps still exist, even though they
are
suspended in mid-air. Your pool, of course, is a mess.'

‘I have got off lightly, believe me.' His eyes were serious. ‘By rights, I should be out there helping, but I am selfish enough to want to turn a blind eye to it all.’ Their eyes met.

The sunset, when they got there, was a magnificent profusion of pinks, crimsons and apricot, and it flushed the white beach, sky and Indian Ocean. Even the palms which had been bent right over and were lying across the sand looked romantic, until you realised that they were there as a result of a devastating cyclone which had hit the small island, Jade thought. Where filaos were growing on the lawns their roots had been left exposed where the sand and the lawns had been washed away. There were no small catamarans on the sea lagoon this evening. Something had happened to this strip of paradise.

Jade slipped her sandals with the glittering stones from her feet and walked on ahead of Laurent. She carried her drink in one hand and the sandals in the other. Some of the coral which had been washed up dug into her toes. The air smelled heavily of sea and sea things. On the reef, the breakers were high and loud.

‘Here,’ said Laurent, beside her, ‘let me carry your shoes. Or better still, put them down here.’

‘Look what it’s done to your beach!’ There were tears in her eyes. ‘Just look—palms and trees completely uprooted, things washed up.' Her voice broke.

His voice, when he answered, was curt. ‘I said to forget about that now. Right now we will enjoy the calm after the cyclone. In other words, we will count down. Tell me,’ he put her sandals down beside some driftwood and took a sip of his drink, ‘what did you do with yourself today?’

‘I came here.' She lifted one shoulder. ‘I’m not sure if you’ll like this ....’

‘Try me.’

‘I walked around your house, something like window-shopping, and looked at all your exciting and beautiful things.’

‘So?’ He sounded pleased and interested. ‘You saw my jade collection, in that case?’

‘Yes. I was very interested, seeing that my name is Jade.’ She gave him a smile.

‘I like to live with these things,’ he told her. ‘I like everything that makes my life agreeable but most of all I have, ever since I can remember, had a passion for jade.’

Jade began walking again. Under normal circumstances, it would have been an unforgettable experience, strolling in the sunset on the beach of an island with a man with the devilish, handsome looks of a dashing corsair—or as she and, no doubt, countless other women imagined a corsair might have looked in those far-away days.

‘It was, of course, inevitable that a beautiful and difficult girl by the name of Jade should enter my life,’ Laurent remarked.

'Why difficult?’ she asked, turning, and hoping a little wildly that he might tell her that he was in love with her—hopelessly so, since she was here to marry another.

‘Just think about it,’ he told her, and something inside her hurt.

‘I have,’ she replied, thinking of Nicole de Speville and Marcelle Fabre, quite apart from the others who were, as yet, nameless to her. ‘To get back to my name, though,’ she decided to change the subject. ‘My mother must have been very romantic to have wanted to call me Jade. When time begins to create havoc with my face it’s going to sound very stupid being referred to as Jade,’

Laurent put out a hand to halt her and then he touched her cheeks with his finger-tips. ‘With your bones,' he said, ‘there will be no havoc.'

Compulsively she moved towards him, conscious of his body, slim but hard and strong and darkly tanned —but in any case, his skin was naturally dark. Her eyes went to his mouth, chiselled and fascinating. Her expression was brooding and quiet—and very still. He drew a long breath and she heard it. His arm slipped around her waist and he drew her to him, and his eyes seemed to change colour. Those strange dark sea-green eyes could play havoc with a woman, she found herself thinking as his mouth came down on hers. While she responded to him one sentence hammered away in the back of her mind—well then. Miss Lawford, you know the set-up here, don’t you?

‘Let go of me,’ she said, moving her head to one side. He went on kissing her cheek and she struggled against him. ‘May I remind you that I’ve come to Mauritius to marry Marlow Lewis?’

‘Have you?’ His voice sounded lazy and bored and slightly mocking. ‘I think it is you who needs to be reminded.’

‘Is there no possibility of getting me back to my hotel?’ she asked.

‘No possibility. It took me most of the day to get Marcelle back home. In places, roads are completely washed away.’ Suddenly, and like the corsair-type she imagined him to be, he grinned. ‘You are my prisoner. Come.’ He stooped to retrieve her sandals from the sand, where he had placed them earlier, ‘What is bothering you?’ His green eyes mocked her.

‘What do you expect to be bothering me?' she asked. ‘You have a mind like a computer so far as women are concerned.’

‘I was hoping that this kind of conversation could have been avoided,’ he said.

The beach looked gilded now. The pink, crimson and apricot was fading and everything was turning to gold, even the green fronds of the palms which had been left standing and the ones that had fallen across the beach.

‘Would a computer collect beautiful things?’ he asked, and his voice sounded careless.

After a moment she said. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if your feelings over your collection of beautiful things are superficial.’

‘That was well thought up.' He turned to lock at her. 'It must give you a glow of satisfaction, no, to have thought of it? You are really very incredibly young.'

‘I suppose, compared to Nicole, I
am
very young.’ She could not resist the barb.

'That is what I mean,’ he said. ’Compared to Nicole, you are very young.’ He gave her a strange look. ‘It is as well that you begin to know the score.'

‘I only passed a simple, reasonable remark,’ she replied hotly, ‘and that was to the effect that you let go of me.'

‘Give me your glass,’ he said. ‘Did you enjoy your drink?’

‘Yes, thank you.’ She could not trust her voice.

‘You even ate the pineapple—and the cherry.’

'I know,’ she murmured, her lashes down.

'It is an accepted part of life, here on the island, that piece of pineapple fastened to the rim of the glass and the cherry at the bottom of it. Things can be very good here, or they can be very bad—or both. Like now.’ He took her hand. 'Let us not speak without thinking.’ He said this with unusual gentleness.

Jade walked back to the house barefooted and then, after brushing the sand from her feet, went inside to the lounge. While Laurent mixed fresh drinks she walked about the room, still in her bare feet.

‘You've seen it, of course,' Laurent spoke, without turning. 'The
feng-huang.'

‘The
—what?'

‘The
feng-huang,’
he repeated ’or phoenix, which brings peace and prosperity to the realm.’

He came to stand beside her, and passed her the glass which was draped with pineapple.

‘That is an interesting piece of jade you are looking at. From time immemorial, the Chinese have associated spiritual and moral values with jade.’ Their fingers brushed as she took the glass from him, thrilling at the touch of his skin upon hers.

‘I see,’ she murmured. ‘Well,’ she took a sip of her drink, ‘although my name happens to be Jade, I know nothing about it, I’m afraid.'

‘The ancient text of the Li Chi has it that knowledge lies in the luminous quality of jade, eternity in its durability, purity of soul in its rarity and, of course, its spotlessness; moral leadership in the fact that it goes from hand to hand without being tarnished, benevolence in the gleaming surface and uprightness in its unyieldingness.’ His eyes held hers.

‘The one cancels the other out,’ she said.

‘So? In what way?’

‘On the one hand it goes from hand to hand, without being tarnished,’ she said, ‘and on the other it's described as unyielding. What about power? Haven’t they come up with something about power?’

‘As a matter of fact, yes, they have. Power lies in its harmlessness. I have the power, of course, you the unyieldingness.’

‘I had no idea that so much importance was paid to jade,’ she said.

‘The word is appreciation,’ he told her. ‘The appreciation of jade is enhanced by intimate association. This applies to the real thing and not just the girl fade.’ His fascinating mouth mocked her. ‘In the case of the two forms of jade, nephrite and jadeite, association with as many examples as possible leads to this appreciation. Each piece holds its own identification. There can be, however, only one girl Jade. Although I already feel I know her well, my experience with her has not been what can be described as an intimate association.’

‘It’s been intimate enough, for all that,’ she answered shortly, ‘considering the—circumstances.’

‘If you have intention of referring to Marlow Lewis, I am possessed by the absolute determination that we are not going to talk about him.’ The cool voice and hard green stare were back. ‘For one thing, I do not have much time for Marlow Lewis.’

‘So I gathered,’ she said, and began walking about the room again, drink in hand, touching this and touching that.

‘While we are together, in this house, we will not talk about him. We will talk about us.’ He lifted his glass in mocking salute. ‘When I am alone with a girl I do not want to drag in a third party.’ Those dark, sea-green eyes held hers with a look that was as disturbing as the touch of his fingers, the feel of his lips on hers.

‘In this case, the third party happens to be the man I’m going to marry.’

‘Yes.’ His eyes looked scornful as they went over her. ‘But you overdo it. Why not just leave it until he gets back.’ It was not a question, the way he put it. It was a command, merely formed as a question. ‘In that way you can see what is what.’

‘I know what’s what! ’

‘Don’t get ahead of yourself! ’ Suddenly he expelled an angry breath. ‘I am not given to excess, or dramatic, statements,’ he told her. ‘I am merely suggesting that you forget about Marlow Lewis. When he gets back you can begin to take stock.’

‘But stock of what?’ Jade swung round, her blue eyes furious.

‘You might have to be prepared for a change.'

‘In Marlow? Or myself?’ She shook back her dark hair.

He shrugged and turned away.

‘You think I might have made a mistake?’ she asked, willing him to tell her that this was what he did believe and that he was in love with her. At this moment she was more than ready to confide in Laurent Sevigny and to admit that she was in love with him and had, in fact, never been in love with Marlow.

‘Are you afraid of making mistakes?' he asked.

‘Well, of course.’ Moodily, she watched him as he picked up a silvered crane on a malachite base and then put it down again. ‘Aren’t you?'

Looking at her, he said, ‘Perhaps one of the most fortunate things that ever happened to a man is that he doesn’t have to pay as much for his mistakes as a woman. Women are very like the treasures you see here, in my house. They are here to be enjoyed ... often casually.’

‘I realised that those are your views, soon after I met you,’ she said. ‘That’s what I’m afraid of. There have been moments with you when I feel ... well, I see myself as your victim.’

‘In other words, you want me to make love to you. You want this as much as I want it.’

Her heart froze at the words. You want me to
make love
to you. Not—I love you.

‘Are you ....’ she broke off and then went on again, ‘Are you suggesting that I allow you to make love to me, tonight? Now that Marcelle has gone?’